[Dorothy Michaels' screen test]

Rita: I'd like to make her look a little more attractive, how far can you pull back?

Cameraman: How do you feel about Cleveland?

Rita: Knock it off.

Dorothy Michaels: Thank you, Gordon. Well, I cannot tell you all how deeply moved I am. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would be the object of so much genuine affection. It makes it all the more difficult for me to say what I'm now going to say. Yes. I do feel it's time to set the record straight. You see, I didn't come here just as an administrator, Dr. Brewster; I came to this hospital to settle an old score. Now you all know that my father was a brilliant man; he built this hospital. What you don't know is that to his family, he was an unmerciful tyrant - a absolute dodo bird. He drove my mother, his wife, to - to drink; in fact, she - uh, she she she went riding one time and lost all her teeth. The son Edward became a recluse, and the oldest daughter - the pretty one, the charming one - became pregnant when she was fifteen years old and was driven out of the house. In fact, she was so terrified that she would, uh, that, uh, that, that, that the baby daughter would bear the stigma of illegitimacy that she, she - she decided to change her name and she contracted a disfiguring disease... after moving to Tangiers, which is where she raised the, the, the little girl as her sister. But her one ambition in life - besides the child's happiness - was to become a nurse, so she returned to the States and joined the staff right here at Southwest General. Well, she worked here, she knew she had to speak out wherever she saw injustice and inhumanity. God save us, you do understand that, don't you, Dr. Brewster?

John Van Horne: I never laid a hand on her.

Dorothy Michaels: Yes, you did. And she was shunned by all you nurses, too... and by a, what do you call it, what do you call it, a - something like a pariah, to you doctors who found her idealistic and reckless. But she was deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply loved by her brother. It was this brother who, on the day of her death, swore to the good Lord above that he would follow in her footsteps, and, and, and, and, and, and, and, and, and, and, and, just, just, just, just, just, just, just, just, just, just owe it all up to her. But on her terms. As a woman. And just as proud to be a woman as she ever was. For I am not Emily Kimberly, the daughter of Dwayne and Alma Kimberly. No, I'm not. I'm Edward Kimberly, the recluse brother of my sister Anthea. Edward Kimberly, who has finally vindicated his sister's good name. I am Edward Kimberly. Edward Kimberly. And I'm not mentally ill, but proud, and lucky, and strong enough to be the woman that was the best part of my manhood. The best part of myself.

Jeff: That is one *nutty* hospital.

Julie: I miss Dorothy.

Michael Dorsey: You don't have to. She's right here. And she misses you. Look, you don't know me from Adam. But I was a better man with you, as a woman... than I ever was with a woman, as a man. You know what I mean? I just gotta learn to do it without the dress. At this point, there might be an advantage to my wearing pants. The hard part's over, you know? We were already... good friends.

Jeff: You slut.

Michael Dorsey: Are you saying that nobody in New York will work with me?

George Fields: No, no, that's too limited... nobody in Hollywood wants to work with you either. I can't even set you up for a commercial. You played a *tomato* for 30 seconds - they went a half a day over schedule because you wouldn't sit down.

Michael Dorsey: Of course. It was illogical.

George Fields: YOU WERE A TOMATO. A tomato doesn't have logic. A tomato can't move.

Michael Dorsey: That's what I said. So if he can't move, how's he gonna sit down, George? I was a stand-up tomato: a juicy, sexy, beefsteak tomato. Nobody does vegetables like me. I did an evening of vegetables off-Broadway. I did the best tomato, the best cucumber... I did an endive salad that knocked the critics on their ass.

Michael Dorsey: You should have seen the look on her face when she thought I was a lesbian.

George Fields: "Lesbian"? You just said gay.

Michael Dorsey: No, no, no - SANDY thinks I'm gay, JULIE thinks I'm a lesbian.

George Fields: I thought Dorothy was supposed to be straight?

Michael Dorsey: Dorothy IS straight. Tonight Les, the sweetest, nicest man in the world asked me to marry him.

George Fields: A guy named Les wants YOU to marry him?

Michael Dorsey: No, no, no - he wants to marry Dorothy.

George Fields: Does he know she's a lesbian?

Michael Dorsey: Dorothy's NOT a lesbian.

George Fields: I know that, does HE know that?

Michael Dorsey: Know WHAT?

George Fields: That, er, I... I don't know.

John Van Horne: I'm just an untalented old has-been.

Dorothy Michaels: Were you ever famous?

John Van Horne: No.

Dorothy Michaels: Then how can you be a has-been?

[ad-libbing on day time television]

Dorothy Michaels: Dr Brewster tried to seduce several nurses in this unit, claiming to be the throes of an uncontrollable impulse. Do you know what? I'm going to give every nurse on this floor an electric cattle prod and instruct them to just zap them in his badubies!

Sandy: OK, wish me luck.

Michael Dorsey: Fuck you.

Sandy: Thank you.

Michael Dorsey: Fuck you.

Sandy: Thank you.

Michael Dorsey: Go!

Sandy: God bless you.

John Van Horne: Does Jeff know?

Ron Carlisle: [after Dorothy reveals she is a man] I *knew* there was a reason she didn't like me!

Ron Carlisle: Take, Tootsie.

Dorothy Michaels: Ron? I have a name it's Dorothy. It's not Tootsie or Toots or Sweetie or Honey or Doll.

Ron Carlisle: Oh, Christ.

Dorothy Michaels: No, just Dorothy. Alan's always Alan, Tom's always Tom and John's always John. I have a name too. It's Dorothy, capital D-O-R-O-T-H-Y.

Ron Carlisle: Gosh I'm afraid you're not right for this role though, honey, thanks for coming by.

Dorothy Michaels: Why am I not right, Mister Carlisle?

Ron Carlisle: I'm trying to make a certain statement here and I'm looking for a specific physical type.

Dorothy Michaels: Mr. Carlisle, I'm an actress. I'm a character actress. I can play it any way you want. Can't you give me any idea what you're looking for?

Ron Carlisle: Honey, I'm sure that you're a very, very good actress. It's just that you're a little too soft and genteel, you're not threatening enough.

Dorothy Michaels: Not threatening enough? How's this, you take your hands off me or I'll knee your balls right through the roof of your mouth! Is that enough of a threat?

Ron Carlisle: [shaken] It's a start.

Dorothy Michaels: Yes, I think I know what y'all really want. You want some gross caricature of a woman to prove some idiotic point, like power makes a woman masculine, or that masculine women are ugly. Well shame on the woman who lets you do that, on ANY woman that lets you do that.

[to Rita]

Dorothy Michaels: And that means you, dear, Miss Marshall.

[turning back to Ron]

Dorothy Michaels: Shame unto you! Macho shithead.

[storms off]

Rita: Jesus!

Ron Carlisle: What is so idiotic about power making a woman masculine?

[reconsidering when he sees Rita]

Ron Carlisle: Not that that was my point...

Michael Dorsey: Friends?

Sandy: No, we are not friends. I don't take this shit from friends. Only lovers.

Jeff: I don't like it when people come up to me after my plays and say, "I really dug your message, man." Or, "I really dug your play, man, I cried." You know. I like it when people come up to me the next day, or a week later, and they say, "I saw your play. What happened?"

Dorothy Michaels: [Reading aloud from a script while watching April doing exercises in her underwear] What kind of mother would I be if I didn't give my girls tits... tips?

Michael Dorsey: You know, I could lay a big line on you and we could do a lot of role-playing, but the simple truth is, is that I find you very interesting and I'd really like to make love to you.

Sandy: Well, good night, Michael. It was a wonderful party. My date left with someone else. I had a lot of fun. Do you have any Seconol?

Michael Dorsey: I don't believe in hell. I believe in UNEMPLOYMENT, but not hell.

George Fields: Where do you come off sending me your roommate's play for you to star in? I'm your agent, not your mother! I'm not supposed to find plays for you to star in - I'm supposed to field offers! And that's what I do!

Michael Dorsey: 'Field offers?' Who told you that, the Agent Fairy? That was a significant piece of work - I could've been terrific in that part.

George Fields: Michael, nobody's gonna do that play.

Michael Dorsey: Why?

George Fields: Because it's a downer, that's why. Because nobody wants to produce a play about a couple that moved back to Love Canal.

Michael Dorsey: But that actually happened!

George Fields: WHO GIVES A SHIT? Nobody wants to pay twenty dollars to watch people living next to chemical waste! They can see that in New Jersey!

Michael Dorsey: She thinks I'm gay, i told her about Julie and she thinks I'm gay!

George Fields: Julie thinks your gay?

Michael Dorsey: No, my friend Sandy.

George Fields: Sleep with her, and she'll...

Michael Dorsey: I slept with her once she's still thinks I'm gay!

George Fields: Oh... thats no good, Michael.

Ron Carlisle: You don't like me, do you? Now, I can respect that. There's not many women that I can't make like me. Why don't you like me?

Michael Dorsey: I don't like the way you treat Julie. I don't like the way you patronize her. I don't like the way you deceive her. I don't like the way you lie to her.

Ron Carlisle: What do you mean?

Michael Dorsey: You want me to go on?

Ron Carlisle: No, no. I know what you mean.

Julie: [answering phone] Hello?

Dorothy Michaels: That's a corncob.

Jeff: [Michael's half dressed as Dorothy, getting ready for a dinner with Julie] What do you mean you don't have anything to wear?

Michael Dorsey: She has seen me in all of these!

Jeff: She hasn't seen you in that white dress.

Michael Dorsey: What, this?

[holds up a formal white dress]

Jeff: Yeah.

Michael Dorsey: You cannot wear white to a casual dinner. It's too dressy.

Jeff: Can't you wear pants?

Michael Dorsey: Pants?

[pats the fake butt he's wearing then wags his finger No]

Jeff: What about this thing?

[holds up a striped dress]

Michael Dorsey: No. I don't have the right shoes for it, I don't like the way the horizontal lines make me look too hippy, and it cuts me across the bust.

Jeff: [slight pause] I think we're getting into a weird area here.

Michael Dorsey: [arguing after revealing he loves another woman] I never said I love you. You're one of the dearest friends I've ever had, but let's not pretend that we're something we're not, or we're gonna lose everything we have!

Sandy: I never said I love you, I don't care about I love you! I read "The Second Sex", I read "The Cinderella Complex", I'm responsible for my own orgasm, I don't care! I just don't like to be lied to!

Sandy: I'm going to feel this way until I don't feel this way anymore.

Dorothy Michaels: Oh I know what y'all really want is some gross, caricature of a woman to prove some idiotic point that power makes a woman masculine, or masculine women are ugly. Well shame on you for letting a man do that, or any man that does that. That means you, dear. Miss Marshall. Shame on you, you macho shit head.

Julie: I know I'm pretty and I use it. I just guess I shouldn't have gone to Dr. Brewster's office so late.

Dorothy Michaels: Well, no, that's not true. You know, Dr. Brewster has tried to seduce several nurses on this ward, always claiming to be in the throes of an uncontrollable impulse. Do you know what?

Ron Carlisle: Uh-oh.

Dorothy Michaels: I think I'm gonna give every nurse on this floor an electric cattle prod, and just instruct them to just *zap* him in his badoobies.

Julie: [Tries, unsuccessfully, to hold back a giggle]

Ron Carlisle: Cattle prod?

Dorothy Michaels: Ruby? Hi, you wanna open the Yellow Pages under the section, Farm Equipment Retail...

Sandy: A guy named Les is sending you flowers?

Michael Dorsey: Yes. He's a friend of mine. He can't eat candy. He's diabetic.

Sandy: Why is he thanking you for a lovely night in front of the fire.

Michael Dorsey: [long pause] My minds a blank.

Sandy: Micheal, are you gay?

Michael Dorsey: In what sense?

Jeff: I'm just afraid that you're going to burn in Hell for all this.

George Fields: You're too much trouble. Get some therapy.

George Fields: You are psychotic!

Michael Dorsey: No, I'm not, I'm employed.

Jeff: [waking up and seeing Michael as Dorothy] Mom?

George Fields: OK, I know this is going to disgust you, Michael, but a lot of people are in this business to make money.

Michael Dorsey: You make it out like I'm some flake, George. I am in this business to make money, too.

George Fields: Really?

Michael Dorsey: Yes!

George Fields: The Harlem Theatre for the Blind? Strindberg in the Park? The People's Workshop in Syracuse?

Michael Dorsey: OK, now wait a minute. I did nine plays in eight months up in Syracuse. I happened to get great reviews from the New York critics, not that that's why I did it.

George Fields: Oh, of course not. God forbid you should lose your standing as a cult failure.

Les: [after falling for Dorothy, he discovers she's a man] Why'd you do it?

Michael Dorsey: I needed the work.

Les: The only reason you're still breathing is because I never kissed you.

Jeff: Mike, I really appreciate you're doing this, but... it is just for the money, isn't it? It's not just so you can wear these little outfits?

Michael Dorsey: [Sandy has seen Michael going into his apartment dressed as Dorothy, and she thinks this means he's having an affair with a woman] Sandy, I'm not having an affair with the woman who went into my apartment earlier, alright? It's impossible.

Michael Dorsey: [fussing over selecting an outfit for dinner] This is our first date, I just want to look pretty for her.

Dorothy Michaels: Les, I think there's something I've got to say.

Les: There's something I want to say, too. Wouldn't it be funny if we both wanted to say the same thing?

Dorothy Michaels: That *would* be hilarious, but I don't think that what I have to say is what you have to say.

Michael Dorsey: [helping Sandy to get in the mood for her lines] You're a second rate actress.

Sandy: [Sandy turns back and glares] I said good day!

Michael Dorsey: Gettin' there.

Sandy: Did you feel how much I hated you?

Michael Dorsey: Yes, in fact, why do you think I'm leaving?

[Michael gets up, starts putting on his coat]

Sandy: Wait a minute! You can't leave! How am I gonna get it back tomorrow? I can't ask a total stranger to enrage me!

Michael Dorsey: What time's your audition?

Sandy: Eleven.

Michael Dorsey: Ok, I'll pick you up at ten and enrage you.

John Van Horne: [finishing his drink] Dorothy, I want you.

Dorothy Michaels: I beg your pardon?

Mrs. Crawley, Amy's Nanny: Miss Nichols.

Dorothy Michaels: Oh, my stars!

Julie: Dorothy, this is Mrs. Crowley. She helps me with Amy.


Julie: Thank you, Mrs. Crowley.

[whispering, to Dorothy]

Julie: She scares the shit out of me.

Michael Dorsey: You're worried about the audition tomorrow, aren't you?

Sandy: No I'm not worried about that audition.

Michael Dorsey: Why? Why are you so worried?

Sandy: Because I'm not gonna get it, I'm not gonna get it, because I'm completely wrong for it

Michael Dorsey: Why, what kind of a part is it?

Sandy: [pause] A *WOMAN*!

Michael Dorsey: [Michael wonders what explanation he'll give Sandy about how he raised the money to make Jeff's play] What am I gonna tell her, somebody died and left it to me?

Sandy: [cut to Sandy] Oh my god, when did she die?

Ron Carlisle: Not too close!

Dorothy Michaels: [John Van Horn is serenading her from the street after a stressful night] Are you out of your cotton pickin' mind? I'm on the third floor. Come on up, before somebody calls the cops. Jesus!